


Golden Slumbers

by madness_on_the_milano



Series: The Flora Colossi and the Enhanced Procyonid [9]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drax the Dad, Family Fluff, Gen, Paternal Drax the Destroyer, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-17 16:38:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16978173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madness_on_the_milano/pseuds/madness_on_the_milano
Summary: Finding himself faced with the temporary inability to pilot or climb and jump  onto surfaces, Rocket becomes a three-foot tall workaholic with no time for sleep. Until the night he falls asleep in his workshop and Drax finds himself taking a walk down memory lane (so to speak).Written as a direct sequel to A Different Light, but can be read alone!





	Golden Slumbers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Woozletania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woozletania/gifts).



The thing about healing was that it never seemed to end. Rocket was finding it to be that way, at least. Good news was that he was in a spaceship once more and the smell of Ravagers was almost completely gone. The bad news was that he couldn't jump or bend forward for several weeks until his innards had completely healed. He wouldn't have minded, but it meant that he couldn't co-pilot or jump onto the counters. Still, as Quill had pointed out, at least he wasn't on bedrest.  
While he waited for his cells to completely mend the damage in his body, he focused on side-projects. Things like aero-rigs and weaponry. At first, everyone was nothing but supportive, only interrupting when it was time for food. But recently, Rocket couldn't help but notice that people were looking at him strangely. Almost like they were worried. They were probably just concerned about the scorch marks on the walls, he thought to himself as he welded together two halves of metal to make a grenade.

"Rock?" Quill called from behind the door. "Come on, Drax made us...something!"

Drax's food always looked weird, but he was undoubtedly the best cook on the ship, so Rocket didn't waste any time in shutting off the welder. He knew better than to risk running, but walked as fast as he could, sniffing the air appreciatively. He heard Quill chuckle. "What?"

"You smellin' the air."

"What? It smells good! I bet it's one of his casseroles." Rocket looked back, to see that Quill was some distance away from him. "Pete, hurry up!"

"I am hurryin'. You should eat more snacks, then you wouldn't get so hungry."

Rocket rolled his eyes. He went into the kitchen area and pulled at Drax's apron strings to get his attention. The apron itself had a picture of a busty pink woman's scantily-clad body on it and he grinned, like he always did. "What's for dinner?"

Drax brushed over the tip of his ear. "Food."

"You always say that."

Drax laughed and stirred a long spoon around in the silver pot. "I made a casserole with the last of the fresh perishables," he said, taking the spoon out of the pot. Bright purple liquid dripped from it, bringing smells of fresh Xandarian garlic, A'askavarian mountain herbs and a medley of vegetables.

"Did you remember to make up bread?"

"Do I ever forget to make up bread?" Drax gave him the spoon and, once the casserole sauce had been licked off, took it back. "Is it acceptable?"

"Sure is."

Drax smiled, put a platter of bread rolls in his arms, and gently pushed him to the door. "Thank you. Tell the others that it won't be long until it's ready."

As he couldn't sit up at the table any more, Gamora had come up with a solution - large cushions arranged in a circle. Quill had decided they needed a flashlight in the middle, so it could be like they were out camping. For the past five days, everyone had been regaled with stories from the Terran's youth, most of which involved the man's mother or grandfather, with cousins making an occasional cameo. Rocket liked the camping stories, though. His favourite one was when a large animal called a bear had turned up, scared the shit out of everyone, eaten all of the food, and left. He hoped that Quill might be willing to tell the story again soon. He put the bread rolls by the flashlight and sat on his pink cushion by Mantis. "Drax says we haven't got long to wait."

Sure enough, they didn't. Within a minute, Drax came in with seven bowls balanced on his arms and slid each toward a member of the family. "There," he said, settling on his blue cushion between Rocket and Gamora. "It was Hovat's recipe."

If anyone didn't like it, they clearly didn't have the heart to say after this revelation. The bowls were all cleared quickly and bread was used to remove any remnants of the casserole. Rocket couldn't wait until he was able to do normal things again. When he was back to full health, the first thing he was going to do was get Quill to put him on cooking duty so he could take a shot at Hovat's casserole. It wouldn't be as good as Drax's, because now they only had frozen, dehydrated and canned stuff. But even if they still had fresh ingredients, no one's cooking could ever compare to Drax's. He let Kraglin take away his bowl and leaned against Drax's leg. "That was really good. Thanks."

"You're welcome. It turned out better than I had thought." Drax rubbed behind his ears. "You seem tired."

"I'm fine."

"No, Drax has a point." Quill said. "You look exhausted. When was the last time you slept?"

"What are you two, my grandmothers?" Drax stopped petting. Rocket could see that he was none too pleased by the answer and backtracked, quickly. "I don't know. A week ago?"

"A week-?! Rocket!" Great. Now he had Gamora's attention too. "That's unhealthy."

"If I needed the sleep, I would've slept!"

"That's unacceptable, Rocket." If it had been anybody else, Rocket's defences would have shot up (perhaps literally) at the word 'unacceptable', but the fact that it was Drax, who had started petting him again, did a lot to keep Rocket calm. "Gamora is right. It isn't healthy."

"I spent a damn week sleepin' in Xandar! I don't need any more sleep."

"Then why do you look so tired?"

"My body might want to sleep, but my brain doesn't. That's all there is to it."

"What if you fall asleep in your workspace?"

Rocket glared at Quill. "It's fine. Just leave it, humie."

"I know you're cranky 'cause you're tired, so I'm gonna let that go." Quill said and he got to his feet.

Rocket grabbed Mantis' pillow, tearing it out from under her. Before he could throw it at Quill's head like he wanted to, Drax had taken it and then put his arm in front of Rocket so he couldn't even charge at him. _"Rocket."_

"He's an asshole!"

"You know much better than to throw racial slurs at people." Drax handed Mantis back her cushion. "Especially when he was only concerned about you."

"He got on my damn nerves." Rocket muttered. Quill had gotten on his nerves - but he knew very well that Drax was right, so he got up reluctantly to go find his captain. "Pete! Where did you go?"

"In here." Quill called from the cockpit. He turned the pilot seat to face Rocket. "What's up?"

"Sorry for callin' you a humie."

"Thank you." Quill touched behind his ears, silently telling him that all was forgiven. "I've been called worse, but how about dropping that word from now on?"

"Okay."

"And how about going to bed and sleeping tonight?"

"No." Rocket sighed at the look on his face. "But if I get tired out, I'll go to bed. That's the best I can do."

Pete looked disbelieving. "Look, if one of us goes to your workspace and find you asleep, you are gonna wake up in your own bed, Rock."

There was clearly no getting around this new rule. Frickin' jerk. But there was absolutely no danger of that because he wasn't tired enough to sleep. "Fine by me."

Quill held out his pinky finger. "Promise."

"God _damnit_ , Pete." But there was no getting out of it, so Rocket let him link their pinky fingers. "I promise. Happy now?"

"Pretty happy. Are you hanging out here with me tonight?"

"No, I got things to make." Rocket started walking away, missing Quill shaking his head. "See you in the morning."

"Night, Rock."

* * *

Rocket refused to let himself close his eyes. He wasn't tired, not yet. He was yawning to...to try and get oxygen to his brain quickly so he could stay awake. So how could he possibly be tired? And his eyes were only sore because he'd set a few things on fire accidentally. He put down the pliers and yawned again, unable to stop his head from drooping. He crossed his arms and rested his head on them. Maybe just five minutes of shutting his eyes would help...

* * *

It was no surprise whatsoever to Drax when he looked in to find the smell of smoke, a cluttered workbench and a soundly-sleeping Rocket in the workspace. He knelt down by him and lightly shook his shoulder, not wanting to wake him up from what was clearly a much-needed slumber. No response. Exhaustion had clearly bettered him.

_'If he's asleep, just take him to his bed. He already knows what the score is, so he won't try and attack you...hopefully.'_

Rocket appeared to be comfortable, but Drax didn't like the way his back seemed to curve over. It would be no good at all for his spine, therefore he had to go to somewhere more comfortable and supportive. Drax put his hand in the middle of the furry one's back. He felt something solid and realised that it was the larger of Rocket's spinal implants and moved his hand upward, not wanting to cause any discomfort.  
He remembered taking his daughter to her crib when Hovat fell asleep with the product of their love in her arms. It had been exhilarating and terrifying at the same time, being responsible for the safe transport of one so precious. Now was little different, but he had more trust in himself now than he had then. Besides, Rocket was far sturdier than an infant child.  
Drax slid Rocket closer and then put one arm behind his neck to support his head and the other behind his knees to secure his legs. Getting up, he was surprised at the weight, but then recalled that Rocket's skeleton was mostly made up of metal. Little wonder, then, that he was heavier than one might expect. Rocket stirred in his arms and stretched out an arm, his paw gripping Drax's shoulder with considerable strength. Drax winced and gently eased it from his shoulder. He had a suspicion that he now had puncture marks from Rocket's claws, but it didn't matter. As long as he got Rocket back to his own bed without either of them getting seriously hurt, he was doing just fine.

As he made his way to the sleeping areas, he nearly bumped into Quill, who grinned at the sight of Rocket sleeping peacefully in his arms. "I knew he'd end up asleep," he said, very quietly. "Night, Drax."

"Goodnight, Quill." And then, completely forgetting that he had Rocket, Drax went into his own cabin. It was only when he was settling him down that he realised he'd made his mistake. He shook his head at his own forgetfulness and went to put his hands under Rocket's arms when the smaller one flinched. Drax smoothed the fur on his head and Rocket relaxed. Just as Drax was considering how best to get him to his own bed, a tiny dark hand grabbed his finger and pulled his hand to his chest, holding onto it tightly. _'I can't take him to his own bed.'_ Drax realised and he sat down to unbuckle his boots one-handedly. By the time he was done, Rocket had let go and curled up on his side, looking impossibly small. The last centimetre of his long and fluffy striped tail rested over his nose and one paw was gripping it. Drax stroked his head again, lay on his side and watched him sleep, nostalgia overcoming him as he recalled the many sleepless nights he'd spent gazing in awe at his now long-dead child.

**Author's Note:**

> Woozle, this is also a thank-you for all the help you've given to me over the past couple of months. You're a true friend!


End file.
